island man
by thenormalfreak
Summary: wow,this is actually pretty good,i based this on a piece of writing i did ages ago for another story,based on 'island man' by grace nichols, poem fic please dont be put of by this about beastboys past,i hope u like it,please read not as bad as it look


Disclamer: I will not put a disclaimer on this as I have no reason to...if I owned the teen titans or this poem I would not be on this FANFICTION sight would I...i.e. Fan (as in not the authour/creator) ect.....and fiction (as in fake/made-up...no truth behind) ect ect....so I am not putting a disclaimer on this....(mainly because im in a diplomatic mood....) sooo neeeeehhhhh :-P

I have never studied this poem but I couldn't help but love it once I randomly read it when I was board...this idea has just popped into my head for no apparent reason....though I am quite proud of this (and I have not yet found a poem fic I like :-S yet)...so here u go, a poem fic of island man by Grace Nichols...enjoy...

**island man**

_Morning  
and island man wakes up_

it was still quite early when beast boy stirred. He was about to open his eyes when he stopped...if he listened carefully he could here it...it was times like this he was glad the tower was on an island...

_  
to the sound of blue surf  
in his head_

he could here the sounds of the waves around him, he listened intently and sighed. He missed Africa, that he knew, every morning was the same...he could fool himself that he was still there...still on the shores that surrounded his village...

_  
the steady breaking and wombing_

he aloud tears to fall as memory's came...slowly he curled up on his side....hoping this morning would never end...__

wild seabirds  
and fishermen pushing out to sea

he remembered when he was young, 7 maybe 8. he was just sitting on the shores, watching the fisherman push out, ready for another day in paradise...

if he concentrated...

...he could still hear the seagulls screeching in the early morning sunrise...the wind slowly cooling his skin from the hot African sun...the smell of the fresh salty waters that opened up before him

...even the feel of the sand beneath his wanting fingers...

_the sun surfacing defiantly  
_

the pink mingled with a forget-me-not blue in the skys above... It seemed to call to him...

_from the east  
_

never forget....ill always be here...where ever you are.....never forget...

_of his small emerald island_

he opened his eyes and, for a second, he fooled himself, he fooled himself that his emerald walls were the emerald trees he had once called his home...

_  
he always comes back groggily groggily_

sometimes....it was good to be a fool....

he rose out of his warm covers, the warmth that he once felt at home...his true home...

_Comes back to sands  
_

he slowly got changed, but he just looked at his shoes...'not today' he thinks...'today i'm home'...he picks up his shoes and walks out his door...he relished in the feel of the carpet...its like sand...soft sand, under his rough hard feet...relaxing him after a day out at the docks...

_of a Grey metallic soar  
_

his hand rose at his side, as he aloud his hand to drag gently against the cold metallic walls...he closed his eyes...'like the side of our boat'...he thought...remembering, gathering equipment for the trip...it was just another trip...a study of the monkeys at the other side of the island....it was just another trip...

_to surge of wheels_

he listened carefully as the doors to the common room opened in front of him...the wheels that moved it, so much like the ones that moved the boat to the unforgiving waters...just another trip...

_  
to dull North Circular roar  
_

he walked towards the large windows...opening his eyes as he went...he could here the traffic it the city...the rumbling of the engines the same as his families vestal...the dulled hits as they start and stop...the sounds of the waves hitting the sides...falling side to side...the screeches of the wheels so much like his mothers...telling him...run...run...Garfield....RUN!!!...

he dropped his shoes as he walked...

_  
muffling muffling  
_

he stopped in front of the huge windows...he closed his eyes...everything dulled...the cars...the yells...his friends words as they tried to get him to talk...he lost the world as he aloud him mind to fall...deep into reminiscence....he sighed deeply as he opened his slowly aloud his eyes to open to the world...

_his crumpled pillow waves  
_

he looked out at the ocean, so much like his covers he lay in every morn...a world full of water...another drop wont hurt...he aloud a single tear to fall....almost unaware of his friends now rising towards him...

_island man heaves himself  
_

he wipes away the tear that all had seen...he lets a sigh escape from his dry parched lips...he turns to the ones whom worry for him, and smiles...they stop and stare at the island man knowing not his thoughts...he slowly turns his head back to the vast expanse that had took his attention only moments before...the sun was rising...never forget....just another trip...

_  
Another London day_

beast boy smiles and laths at there worries...he will tell them...one day....he smiles again as he remembers the poem he had read just the other night, one by Grace Nichols, what was it called?...he walked to the kitchen...he looked into the sink as he passed...a bowl, filled with the element that filled his dreams...he saw his reflection...he whispers I a native tongue non of the others know...'till tomorrow...island man'


End file.
